Guns don’t work. No problem. PFC Stewart Peter Bate carried a good old-fashioned saber. So old-fashioned it looked like it had once been wielded by a cavalryman in the Civil War. It hadn’t. It wasn’t an antique but a functional replica of a Model 1860 Light Cavalry Saber. The men had laughed at him for carrying it around, but he’d ended up with the last laugh, not that he took any pleasure from it.
The scientists thought the laws of physics here might be different to how they were back home, and might even vary from place to place. That meant that whenever you pulled the trigger on a gun it was a crapshoot whether the gun fired or not. That wasn’t the case with Bate’s trusty sword. Good old steel didn’t rely on physics and chemistry. If you stabbed something in the guts it stayed stabbed.
Bate looked up and wondered which way to go. It was night, which was weird in itself. Up until now he’d thought this place didn’t do night. He was ankle deep in some kind of marsh and surrounded by brackish pools and long reeds. Thick mist clung low to the ground in a ghostly blanket. There was a strong odor in the air. Given his surroundings he would have expected it to be the fetid reek of rotting vegetation. Instead it was a reek of a different kind—like his nose was buried in the pussy of a hooker with hygiene issues.
Bate forged on. It was what he was trained to do.
Ahead and to the left of him there was a disturbance in the ground fog. Mist billowed up in a thick cloud and coalesced in the form of a pretty young woman with large, naked breasts. She gave him an adorable smile and spread her arms as if she wanted to embrace him.
Bate wasn’t fooled. He slashed at her with his trusty Model 1860.
The girl laughed and slid out of reach of his swing as if blown by an unseen wind. She circled him and blew taunting air kisses. Her slender, pale body was wreathed in billowing white clouds.
What was she—alien, ghost, wraith, demon? Bate kept swinging at her with his saber and each time she smoothly glided out of range.
When Bate stopped slashing at her she squeezed her tits together and gave him lewd come-ons that were far too crude to hold any appeal for him. All the while she hovered teasingly just out of range.
Bate feigned turning away and was able to catch her mid-taunt. Not that it improved matters much—she was as insubstantial as the mist she appeared to be composed of. Some of her misty body caught on his sword as it swished through her body. It simply slid off and returned to the main mass after his saber came out the other side. He’d cut her in half and all she did was smile at him as her two halves drifted back together and she reformed.
She was incorporeal, like a ghost. If he couldn’t touch her then it meant she couldn’t touch him. All this teasing and taunting was just an annoyance holding him up. He turned his back on her and stomped away.
The apparition drifted after him. She came up behind him and put gaseous hands over his nose and mouth.
“Breathe. Breathe deep,” she whispered to him.
Bate knew that was a bad idea, but it was too late, he’d already been drawing in a breath when her hands smothered him. He drew the misty substance of her body down into his lungs. Once there, the drugs contained within her gaseous form were absorbed across into his bloodstream and spread out through his body.
Bate tried to hold his breath and force her off. To no avail—she clung to him like a bad smell and his hands passed right through her incorporeal form. The drugs in his system were already taking effect. He felt duller… slower…
He took another breath without realizing, filling his lungs with more tainted air.
It wasn’t so bad. It smelt like sweet perfume.
Bate’s legs buckled beneath him.
He didn’t fall all the way to the floor. Her cloudy form had solidified enough for her to support his weight. It was like dropping into a big pile of soft cushions. The mist devil lay with him, with her misty hands still covering his mouth and nose.
Bate breathed in and the mist devil let him inhale a different drug. This was a stronger perfume that excited his senses and caused his penis to become engorged with blood.
Other unseen hands had already unbuckled and pulled down Bate’s trousers. His erection rose unconstrained. Not that it was visible. His groin and most of his lower body were buried in drifts of fluffy white clouds.
“I’m so empty,” the mist devil whispered in his ear. “Please fill me.”
Her breath tickled his earlobe. Within the clouds covering his genitals it felt like many warm mouths were at work. They blew on his cock and balls… licked them… sucked. Bate shivered in pleasure as his cock was drawn up into a tight, warm tunnel with velvet-soft walls.
“Fill me with your life and energy,” the mist devil breathed in his ear. “I’ll make you feel so nice.”
Bate inhaled more of her drugged gas. A pleasant buzz spread through his body and sent tingling fingers down to tickle his balls. The clouds pulsed and throbbed around his groin, stroked and tickled. Feather-light caresses brushed up his shaft, as light as mist and yet sensation enough to stroke him all the way to release.
He sighed into her smothering hands and his body bucked as he emptied a thick load of cum into the opaque fog wreathing his crotch. The mist devil sighed her own pleasure. The clouds thickened around Bate’s sex. It was no longer feather-light strokes, but firm grips and lusty tugs.
Bate’s cock continued to throb as he expelled more bolts of semen. They were drawn from him as if gulped down by a hungry gullet. Dimly, he became aware there was something in the fog smothering his genitals. He saw a knotted tube, pale like an underground-dwelling worm. Bulges travelled down it and into the clouds he lay upon. Each bulge came after a blissful eruption from Bate’s throbbing member.
“Don’t concern yourself with that.” The mist devil tilted his head so he was staring into her pale, ethereally beautiful face. “Inhale, and then release it all in me.”
Bate breathed in more of her perfumed gas and his perturbation melted away. He relaxed back into her soft form and smiled as she whispered sweet nothings in his ear.
The throbbing bulges at his crotch grew larger as Bate grew weaker and colder, until finally, his vitality fully drained, the mist devil let his body fall onto the reeds and sodden mire. She rose and left his cooling corpse behind as she drifted off in search of fresh prey.
Name: Mist Devil
Type: Elemental [Air] (They won’t allow me to use Ghost)
Habitat: Lowland. Marshy areas. Woodland.
Description: A pretty young woman formed out of dense white mist or smoke and wreathed in clouds. Their hands are disproportionately larger and more indistinct in form than the rest of their body. Their legs terminate in denser white clouds that float just above the surface of the ground. They move by gliding at a speed comparable to a moderate walking pace.
They are capable of turning to mist and back again at will. While normally intangible, they can make their bodies become dense enough to support the weight of an adult human male.
There are reports of male versions, but as of yet these have not been corroborated.
Attack Strategy: They are not capable of sustained rapid movement, so the mist devil will either creep up on their intended prey while disguised as mist or attempt to lure prey to them with their naked bodies. As they don’t appear to utilise any additional tempting factors such as pheromones or hypnosis, anyone allowing themselves to be lured in this manner should collect a Darwin Award for stupidity on the way to meeting their maker.
Once close enough they will attempt to smother their victim either by placing their hands over the victim’s nose and mouth or pressing their gaseous ass or breast into the victim’s face. Inhaling part of the mist devil’s gaseous form has a strong sedative effect. Once the victim is subdued the mist devil surrounds them with her gaseous body and solidifies enough to support them. She then fills their lungs with a strong aphrodisiac gas and manifests feeding tubes, which are used first to stimulate her prey to repeated ejaculations and then to drain their life energy* until all vital functions cease.
*I must apologise for the vagueness of this. Truth is, we don’t know what causes her victims to die. The bodies we’ve recovered show none of the massive fluid loss seen with other hindig victims, or any other sign of injury. Somehow the mist devils use the moment of climax as a catalyst to enable them to draw the spark of life out of their victim. I know it sounds unscientific, but I can’t think of a better way to explain it.
Countermeasures: NOTE: THIS HINDIG IS COMPLETELY IMMUNE TO ALL PHYSICAL WEAPON ATTACKS.
This cannot be stressed strongly enough. Currently we have absolutely nothing that harms these beings in the slightest. If you see one, or are in an environment where you think one is present, get the hell out of there as soon as possible.
(I have a theory that a very strong wind might be enough to permanently disperse their gaseous forms. The problem is how to generate strong enough air currents given the high failure rate of our machinery and explosives under H-space physical laws.)
Threat Level: Moderate to High.
As stated above, WE CURRENTLY HAVE NOTHING THAT CAN RELIABLY HURT THEM.
Thankfully they appear to be quite rare and show no desire in engaging us in a concerted attack, otherwise their threat level would be considerably higher.32681 Views